For the last nine days, thousands of Albanians have marched through the streets of the country’s capital, Tirana, after the government of Prime Minister Edi Rama handed development rights over Sazan island and the protected coastal area of Zvërnec to foreign capital.

[Originally published on Marxist.com]

Ivanka Trump and her husband, Jared Kushner, claim to have “discovered” Sazan. Kushner’s private equity firm, Affinity Partners, plans to invest $1.6 billion to redevelop the areas into a resort for the rich.

But Sazan and Zvërnec have long been a point of pride for Albanians. The development of Zvërnec, where the Trump-Kushners plan to build their luxury resort complex, would bulldoze a nature reserve home to many endangered and protected species—among them flamingos, which have since come to symbolize the resistance to the project itself.

Although Zvërnec remains uninhabited, many locals own or work on the land. As work began last week, locals woke up to find the area surrounded by barbed wire and private security guards, forbidding them from setting foot onto the land.

Immediately, protests broke out directly outside the site, and protesters attempted to push down the surrounding barricades. But this seemingly contained movement quickly gained mass attention, as a video went viral in which a protester was allegedly punched and dragged away by a private security guard as the state police stood by and watched.

The incident quickly became emblematic of the entire project and helped bring thousands more onto the streets.

These protests have quickly transformed from simply demanding the end of the project, to demanding the resignation of Prime Minister Edi Rama:

The state is supposed to protect the interests of its people. But they step on us! They step on their own people, let alone on the flamingos! Send Rama to prison, send [former Deputy Prime Minister] Belinda to prison.

While Western media outlets are trying to brand this as a movement of cuddly, environmental activists, the mood on the ground is much more militant. The most common slogans echoing through the streets of Tirana give a flavor of that mood:

Albania belongs to the Albanians, not the oligarchs!

Albania belongs to the Albanians, death to the traitors!

Rama for prison, Berisha for prison! Revolution, revolution!

The masses are calling for the downfall not just of the Prime Minister Rama, but the opposition leader Berisha; not just the Trumps and Kushners, but the whole oligarchy. The masses are calling for revolution.

“Flamingo Revolution”

Since the fall of the Stalinist regime and the disastrous transition to capitalism in the 1990s, the two dominant parties have been the Socialist Party of Albania and the Democratic Party of Albania. Over the years, Albanians have swung between the two parties, as each one became embroiled in scandal. The question for voters became, which is the lesser evil?

Each election would be shrouded in chaos and anger from the opposition and a layer of the masses. Protests outside the prime minister’s office would escalate to riots, with Molotov cocktails being thrown at government buildings.

Despite their seemingly militant appearance, these protests rarely expressed an independent movement from below. More often, they were organized by opposition politicians seeking leverage against the government, relying primarily on their established support bases. Over time, these demonstrations became so predictable that many Albanians joked that they had become little more than a tourist attraction.

But the current protests are of an entirely new, spontaneous character. Despite the movement having no official organizer, thousands of Albanians have come out onto the streets—quickly reaching levels comparable to the historic uprisings of 1991, which ultimately toppled the Stalinist regime.

Just as in 1991, the current “Flamingo Revolution” has been sparked by the youth. However, in 1991, the revolutionary crisis was soon channeled towards the restoration of capitalism. Already, by 1997, this had disastrous results. A banking collapse was triggered by the Ponzi schemes that had been promoted by the new regime. This led to a new mass movement that swept the police and army away but ultimately led nowhere.

In short, the Albanian masses have long been familiar with the rottenness and corruption of capitalism, but have been locked into this system for want of an alternative.

The present generation of youth has only known capitalism and all its horrors. They have no illusions that any of the mainstream parties which emerged following capitalist restoration will guide the country in the interest of ordinary people.

The leader of the Democratic Party, Sali Berisha, has been under investigation for accusations of “involvement in significant corruption” and ties to organized crime groups, for which he has been barred from entering the USA. Similarly, Edi Rama’s entire government has been shrouded in accusations of corruption, for which many of the Socialist Party’s officials have already faced investigation and even prison.

Earlier this year, Deputy Prime Minister, Belinda Balluku was accused of interfering in public procurement procedures. Rama responded by proposing a law which forbade the special anti-corruption court from suspending senior officials—a glowing sign of innocence.

This spurred the typical routine of protests organized by the opposition party. Molotov cocktails were thrown at the prime minister’s office.

But this scandal persisted in the broader consciousness. It laid bare what the masses have long known: there is one rule for the ruling class, and another for the working class. The latter are now filling the streets with chants of “Rama for prison, Berisha for prison, Belinda for prison!”

But corruption alone does not explain the character of the current movement. The current protests have remained largely peaceful and have seen none of the violent measures of previous protests. To the average onlooker, this may be taken to represent a decline in militancy.

Rather, the true nature of the Flamingo Revolution can be found in its composition. Today, the people we see on the streets of Tirana are the country’s youth, students and ordinary workers—with many of them coming out to protest for the first time in their lives. One resident in Tirana remarked that even “lazy people who never ever went to protests before are coming out,” adding: “I’ve never seen protests this big in my life and they just keep getting bigger every day.”

Viral videos show young children walking up and down the boulevards, beating on drums and shaming those who remain seated to join the protests: “Get up from the cafes!”

Against corruption and oligarchy

What began as opposition to Kushner’s development project has rapidly evolved into a broader social movement. The imperialist investments in Sazan did not cause the anger, but merely provided a channel for expressing it.

The majority of real estate development in Albania is driven by domestic oligarchs—many of them with ties to organized crime—and is conducted with the full blessing of the Rama government. This is the world that the youth of Albania have come to know, a state which oversees the carving up of the country from above, by foreign capital and its local puppets.

Calls to halt the construction have increasingly been replaced by demands directed against the entire political establishment. Young protestors who attack the mainstream parties are met with cheers, and speeches denouncing oligarchs and capitalism have found a receptive audience among sections of the movement.

At one demonstration, a speaker from the left-wing movement Levizja Bashkë declared:

…We will never allow the Qatari oligarchs, or technocratic dictators, to come and buy our land, or tell us that our land is a commodity to be sold. And this applies to the oligarchs at home! […]

We will never allow them to destroy our communities and our environment. Because the independence, freedom and dignity of our people is unchanging and priceless!

So today I call on you, to do today what we have done throughout our long history, we must seek and make a true revolution! Revolution, revolution, and again revolution! This is the only way we can save Albania!

As they reach the ninth day of protest, the country’s youth shows little sign of slowing down. Due to the movement’s lack of any central organizers, the people continue to use social media to organize and put out calls for unity. News channels have interviewed participants in the streets:

We need all the youth, the students out here protesting, everyday from 6am. We are protesting against the theft of Albania, against the wickedness of our government—which you can find here, in Edi Rama. And we [the people] must take over Albania, because it belongs to the Albanian people.

Recent protests in Serbia may have provided inspiration for many in the movement. Despite the tensions between the two countries, the hatred of their corrupt governments cuts across all divisions of language and borders.

In 2024, Kushner attempted to build a $500 million luxury hotel complex in Belgrade, Serbia on the site of a designated cultural monument that had been heavily damaged by the 1999 NATO bombing campaign. It seems that Rama was following Vučić’s playbook, as both had silently fast-tracked changes allowing rich developers to build over protected sites in their respective countries.

Affinity Partners ultimately had to retreat from this project following an outbreak of protests late last year, as the people demanded a criminal investigation into the project. This, as well as the protests last summer in Serbia, demonstrates how opposition to corruption and political elites can rapidly develop into a broader social movement.

Yet Serbia is not the only reference point. As we saw last summer, many of the Gen Z revolutions adopted the One Piece pirate flag, a symbol that has also begun appearing in the demonstrations in Albania. This symbol reflects something deeper than a local grievance—a whole generation of youth across the world has lost faith not only in their governments, but in the system itself.

In Nepal, a similar explosion led by the youth brought down the government. But without a party with a correct revolutionary programme to guide it, the movement was ultimately absorbed and dissipated by the establishment.

The Serbian state felt the masses on its doorstep last summer. But the Albanian state is far weaker, and its door is hanging torn from its hinges. With Rama’s palace within the reach of the crowds that march the streets, there is arguably little to stop them from sweeping away the government. But as Nepal demonstrated, the question is no longer whether the government can be toppled, but what will replace it.

“Rama for prison, Berisha for prison! Revolution, revolution!”

Edi Rama’s response to the movement has been limited, but revealing. After five days of protest, Rama resorted to conspiracy theories, claiming this was a “hybrid war”, incited by Iran—unsurprising from a figure whose foreign policy has been defined by unwavering alignment with Western imperialism, and support for the genocide in Gaza.

After six days, he claimed that the movement was beginning to dwindle, when in reality, it was reaching new heights. The Albanian diaspora are beginning to return to Albania, to protest against the very government that drove them out of their homes. The poverty that capitalism has brought in its wake since the 1990s has driven 800,000 Albanians to emigrate—compare that to the present day population of 2.75 million.

Rama continues to try and frame this as a minor local grievance, but in London, New York, Milan, Zurich, and Frankfurt, protests outside Albanian embassies are beginning to draw in hundreds.

After seven days, despite Rama stating he is “absolutely open to discussing with anyone who has concerns,” he proclaimed that “not 5,000 people, but even if 500,000 people come out to the streets, would not be enough to stop it.” Rama’s contradictory remarks—at the same time pleading for negotiation while also attempting to strike a note of defiance—do not reflect a stable government, but growing anxiety within the establishment.

And as we approach the eleventh day of demonstrations, the movement is expected to grow further, with increased mobilization efforts planned to coincide with the anniversary of the formation of the League of Prizren—a revolutionary organization formed on June 10, 1878 to fight the carve up of Albania by foreign powers. This significant date is being referenced in calls to attend the protests, as it has historically been invoked in Albanian political discourse as a symbol of national unity.

Whether the movement can sustain its momentum remains to be seen. But the slogans echoing through the streets of Tirana right now send a clear message: what began as a dispute over a luxury resort, is now raising questions that go to the very foundations of Albanian capitalism, and which threaten to rip apart Albania’s political establishment.